The Absence of Light
by xxSpinner's Endxx
Summary: If you like deatheaters, darkness, violence, witty nonconforming Slytherins, vampires, doomed love, demons, fire, and notsoevil main characters that can kill without feeling, please do read. [Plot summary in my profile]
1. Chapter 1 Another Beginning

_**Disclaimer**_

I don't own the canon characters. (Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Draco, etcetera...)  
Or anything else from that matter that can be traced back to the works of JKR or the "Charmed" series.

Background Info :

Pre HBP

So Dumbly isn't dead...yet.

"_Imitation"_

_A dark unfathomed tide_

_Of interminable pride--_

_A mystery, and a dream,_

_Should my early life seem;_

_I say that dream was fraught_

_With a wild and waking thought_

_Of beings that have been,_

_Which my spirit hath not seen,_

_Had I let them pass me by,_

_With a dreaming eye!_ _-Edgar Allan Poe_

_(That is only a piece of the poem, and it's not being used for the benefit of this fic in any way.)_

**_Prologue_**

_It felt as though every square inch of her skin was being burned, frozen, stabbed with needles, and cut open. Well that's the only way she'd ever be able to explain it._

_The truth was, the pain was like nothing she had ever felt. It was so beyond what any human was **supposed** to feel- yet not enough to kill. That was the power of it. Just that pain- the length of it- could make you do whatever the person inflicting it wanted you to._

_**No,** Carrie thought to herself, **I won't do what they want me to. They won't get it out of me. Sure as hell not like this...It'll all be over soon enough.**_

_That's when the spell came off. _

_She fell to the dirt ground trembling. Her body ached everywhere, and she could barely lift her head. She did, though. The second she did, she regretted doing so. It was one of the biggest mistakes she had made, with the exception of getting into this mess in the first place. That moment when she lifted her head was when she watched them bring in the other. What she felt was something so beyond terror..._

_This would all be her fault. _

_Another death. _

_Her fault. _

_She couldn't scream, couldn't speak. She couldn't blink or turn away. It was almost as if she wasn't in her body. Like her spirit had left, and re-entered, but no longer had the ability to control it..._

Chapter 1  
**Another beginning**

The 'trio' walked into the Great Hall. They sat down and continued a rather heated argument. Well two of the three were arguing. The other was just nodding sympathetically with the red-head one. The Weasely, as the girl guessed, it wasn't exactly hard to miss. They didn't even pay mind to the girl that they sat across from. Her hair was nearly black, but it was still distinguishable as brown. That wasn't the only color, though. There were rather obvious black, bright red, and white streaks in her hair as well. Her eyes were dark, with a look between melancholy and menacing. Her slim form was resting against the back of her She surveyed them with her eye lids half closed, in a rather bored manner, then glanced back down at the top of her c.d. Player. Her hand brushed along the rim inconspicuously as she turned down the volume to hear their conversation better.

"Hermione, really, we're _allowed_ to get worked up over Quidditch. We're _supposed _to," Ron said through gritted teeth, making it quite obvious his patience was waning. Only after he said this did he realize how irrational sounded, then went on to reach the conclusion that he just didn't care.

"Oh please!" Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. Not this again, "Isn't the purpose of sports to bring people _together?!_" She tried to be reasonable, but it was no use. Maybe she should just give up...or not. It wasn't really her 'thing' to give up, anyway. She would much rather be persistent to the point of irritation to everyone around her.

She already heard them start to mutter things under their breath. These out-loud thoughts ranged from "Complete bullshit" to "She'll never understand Quidditch."

She let out a irritated sigh, then caught sight of the girl across the table from her.

_"_What is your name?" she asked, surprised she had never seen her. After all, she looked about her own age. Hermione _definitely _wasn't ignorant enough to not notice another Gryffindor the same year as her for this long.

"Carrie," she replied, not giving any signs that she wanted this not even started conversation to continue. She was in that state of mind where she didn't want to be any part of anything. She would much rather be left alone to herself in her own head. In her head with her music.

She brushed the side of her c.d. player again, not wanting her to know that she had been listening. She supposed it could be considered rude that she was eavesdropping even if their conversation didn't consist of any importance in the least.

"You listen to muggle bands?"Hermione asked, catching the outside edge of the c.d. case sticking out of her bag. Carrie nodded, taking the hint that she wasn't going to be left alone. She just wished this other girl took hints just as easily...

Well, she might as well not be a _completely _rude. "What's your name again?" she asked, doing her best to make her voice sound sincere in kindness. It didn't completely work. Oh well. At least she tried.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's Hermione," she answered, then turned her attention back to the c.d. case, "I haven't listened to them, but I've heard about them. Are they good?" she asked, trying to get her mind off how pig-headed Ron and Harry could be. Especially Ron.

"Yeah. I guess," she smirked, "I probably wouldn't have assumed you to listen to them, anyway."

"And why not?" Hermione asked, looking not offended, but a little irritated that _any_ assumptions were being passed on her.

Carrie raised her eyebrows,"I just wouldn't have. I don't mean to offend you, you just don't seem the type."

"So, is that based on a stereotype, or do you just enjoy passing judgments?" Hermione asked, her eyes darkening. The look she gave was somewhat like the one she had before she had hit Malfoy...but not quite. What Malfoy had said that day pissed her off _much_ more than what Carrie said.

Carrie pulled off her headphones and laughed derisively. "Both," she began sarcastically, "Because, you know, I _really _get a kick out of placing labels on people and thinking that is the only way they could possibly act. No. I was making an observation. Sorry if I offended you- but I'd probably actually understand why you were this upset if you _did_ listen to the band and I said that."

Carrie would have gotten up just then and moved down the table, but it was much too close to the time of the feast now. As she glanced around she realized, much to her dismay, that the Great Hall was packed.

Hermione looked around to see Harry and Ron still in deep discussion about Quidditch. "Oh my god," she hissed through her teeth with a trace of exasperation in her voice. " Can't they give it a rest?" she asked rhetorically, more to herself than to Carrie.

"I'll take it that you are talking to yourself," she observed...again. She hoped that this time her observations wouldn't get her hexed. "Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity...or so I've heard," she added as an afterthought.

"Why haven't I ever met you? I've never seen you in school. You look my age but I have never seen you here," Hermione observed, letting her curiosity get the better of her and felt her anger or irritation (whatever it was) begin to ebb away.

"I hope I don't offend you with this, but that's sort of personal. I left school and didn't come back for a few years- that's as far as I'll go." Quite contrary to her statement, her expression didn't look sorry at all. Amused, yes. But most definitely not sorry.

"So wouldn't you be in the year under your age?" Hermione asked, doing her best to _not_ look offended.

"Well that would depend on what level I'm on now, wouldn't it?" she asked, finding a way to say that without sounding like she was boasting or egotistical.

"What year are you?" Hermione asked, ignoring her question. She might as well start small...she usually wasn't one to be nosy (about other people, at least), and rather disliked people who were. She just couldn't help it. This girl practically showed up out of nowhere and was rather secretive. There was obviously something  
worth finding out.

"6th," Carrie sighed, knowing that she was not going to get off the hook that easy.

"Yeah, so am I...," she let her voice drift off, trying to think of something else for conversation. Carrie had already caught on she wasn't going to be let out of 'socializing' so she quickly thought of something to say. Anything would do. Anything. Just as long as it didn't have anything to do with herself, she'd be fine. She used the first seemingly pointless topic that popped into her mind.

"So, did you hear the news?" she asked, trying for meaningless conversation.

"I don't know if I know unless you tell me, right?" Hermione laughed, "That was a bit confusing wasn't it?"

Carrie smirked, "Just a bit. No, but there's going to be another Dueling Club. Or so I've heard."

"Hm. Harry will like that- Ron too. Do you like Quidditch?" she asked thinking about the earlier disagreement. Though she didn't really want to think about it, she needed _something_ to talk about. Or she'd just be fuming to herself in her head. And somehow that didn't particularly appeal to her.

Carrie shrugged, "I used to..."

"Well, don't get me wrong, I don't mind _watching_ it, but all the arguing and fights over it are for nothing. They're rather pointless. "

Carrie tried at a good-natured grin, though she didn't feel it. It looked true, but I guess it could be said it didn't reach her eyes. "I guess some people have a warped view for the 'glory of the sport'," she answered, rolling her eyes as she used her fingers as quotes for the last part. The phrase was a bit of a cliche- but she knew that. She opened up her c.d. player and switched the c.d. she was listening to.

Hermione looked at her and smiled a bit in amusement, then looked at the ceiling. This was rather difficult. She never thought that it would be so irritating to talk to someone who just didn't _want_ to talk about themselves. Well...now she knew she'd never be able to be any sort of shrink. Not that she had really been thinking about that career for herself.

"You never told me what your last name was," she stated, more out of observation than anything. The second she saw the other's expression, however, she wish she hadn't ever said anything.

Carrie stiffened and her eyes grew cold, but that was something Hermione could not see. She kept her voice as it had been, or so she tried. "...Smith," she answered, and Hermione could almost automatically tell that her voice wasn't the same. She smiled, almost as if she was trying to reassure Hermione that she hadn't said anything wrong. Or maybe it was out of reassurance for herself, who knew? But it didn't reach her eyes. She put her headphones back on...

_Just for the record,  
The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of:  
A. Indifference or  
B. Disinterest in what the critics say_

Carrie smirked. She'd be able to relate to the lyrics, but she was just a bit more than _slightly _sarcastic.

"Carrie?" Hermione asked, "How do you get that to run here? I read that electrical equipment won't work in areas like this one because of all the magic in the air. It interferes."

The dark haired girl pulled her headphones back off. "That would be because it's not running on electricity. It's running on magic. I charmed it...don't ask how. I don't exactly remember. I was just sort of messing around...now if only I could do the same thing to my mp3 player," she mused, her expression looking thoughtful.

"That has to be a complicated bit of magic," Hermione observed, her voice mildly impressed and her expression equally thoughtful.

"A complicated bit of magic that I can't even remember...," Carrie smiled wryly, "I doubt it, though... and if it was it was purely luck." She cut herself off as she saw Dumbledore take a stand at the head table.

"Welcome to those of you who have just come, and welcome back to those that are returning...," Dumbledore began, and Carrie felt herself drift off and stop listening. She couldn't help it. She felt tired and hungry. How could _anyone_ concentrate through that?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At breakfast Hermione watched Ron and Harry in a heated argument over which Quidditch team would win the next World Cup ("The Chuddley Cannons!" "NO, The Tornadoes!") and Hermione had had it. She got up from her seat and, not meaning to, yelled,  
"Could you two just SHUT THE HELL UP?!"

Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth. The motion was done in a rather childish manner which just made her feel more embarrassed. So, all in all, it made her situation feel even _worse._ She had yelled louder than she meant. Everyone was looking at her (Though Ron was trying, and failing, to stifle his laughter) and she felt incredibly embarrassed, so she went to the library. It wasn't that she wanted to research something or needed an answer. Sometimes the only answer you needed was getting lost in a book. A place to escape from the world. She had to admit that her current problem wasn't even what she'd consider a _problem_, but she didn't exactly feel great- to put it lightly.

Though Carrie was planning on walking to the library _before_ she heard Hermione shout, seeing the other girl run off there just gave her more incentive to go. She hated drama, but she felt the urge to bask in someone else's self misery over a petty problem. It was actually something she enjoyed to do quite often.

"I went the Weasely's joke shop- who I'm assuming you know, considering you're friends with what I'm also assuming is their brother. Red hair and all that- and saw they have this _really _nifty hat. It makes your head disappear. I thought that was particularly brilliant. But I think you're in need of one." Carrie flicked her wrist in a bored manner and it appeared on the library table. Hermione glared at her, and Carrie had the grace to look like she felt bad (even if it was farce)"Not the right time?"

"Not the right time...did you just call Ron a 'what'?" Hermione asked, looking slightly offended again. She was almost positive she hadn't heard Carrie wrong. No. She hadn't made a mistake, Carrie had said, "what I'm also assuming is their brother". She couldn't help but rise up in his defense.

"Yep. Not totally sure if I should call him human. His emotional range doesn't go far enough to be considered humanistic...Ah...well...," she shrugged, obviously not disappointed that her attempt at cheering her up didn't work. In truth, she was rather amused at Hermione's irritation. Though she hadn't threatened her yet, and that she found more than slightly disappointing...

Hermione suddenly realized what had happened, which was obviously a bit of a delayed reaction. Her eyes went wide in awe. "How did you make that appear?"

"Wandless magic," she answered, lying smoothly, and giving her a look that her question was possibly one of the less intelligent ones she had heard. After all, it wasn't a _complete_ lie.

"That takes forever to master. It doesn't just fall in your lap," the other stated, and this is where the 'complete lie' bit came in. Carrie had never created the skill. It was just sort of there. She _had_, however, improved upon it. Though explaining this to Hermione didn't particularly appeal to her. _Where the hell do you come from that you don't see anything wrong with telling something about yourself to someone you've only just met?_ She wanted to ask her. She didn't of course.

Carrie waved her hand again and the hat disappeared. "You ask a lot of questions, don't you? Honestly, I don't know what else to tell you." Once again she had not answered honestly when she had said she was honest. She probably could have gotten away with telling her to 'fuck off', but that would just have made Hermione hate her. Carrie had enough people hate her, and she was getting a bit bored and rather sick of it. But that wasn't it completely. Truth be told, in any other situation she just wouldn't have cared. But here she was, at Hogwarts again, and she needed to prove that she changed. That's what got her. Once again she just left without another word. It was probably the more wise of her to do.

_**Disclaimer**_

_**Lyrics:**_

_Just for the record,  
The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of:  
A. Indifference or  
B. Disinterest in what the critics say_

_**Taken from:**_

_**Panic! at the Disco "London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines" **_


	2. Chapter 2 Dealing

A/N: Yep. It's getting darker. Gradually, but surely.

Disclaimer: Any characters you recognize from the books, or any other substance or events, are, unfortunately, the work of the amazing JKR. And not me. :

Carrie sat on the edge of her four poster in her newly familiar dorm room looking out the dim window. She had the sudden and rather random observation of the window panes. They were dank, with a light film of dust and dirt that built up over time. It limited the light that was able to enter the dorm room, but in a way it suited her just fine. For once in her life she could have been happy. She _could _have been. But she wasn't.

Her chest was constricted with a sort of pain that was nearly indescribable unless you have felt it before. Her past actions were strangling her, but living with the pain was her way of torturing herself. If she were to die, then how would she be able to pay for what she had done? Though, she had to say, physical pain would be much better. Like if she fell from a dangerous height that was enough to seriously hurt her, but not enough to kill her, that would be wonderful. It was because she just couldn't deal with the emotional pain. It was impossible for her to forget how it came about. How she became conscious of what she was doing. It never bothered her before. Hurting. Killing.

Ironically, it became her demise soon after. In a sense, she was dead. She felt like an empty shell inhabited only by remorse and regrets. With that thought she felt the sudden urge to punch through the damn window pain that she could so pathetically relate to. She wanted to smash it, but not just stop there. She would place the broken pieces in a bag, then hit it with a mallet until it was a powder, then she would torch it until it melted back together into an unrecognizable blob. Oh how she wished she couldn't recognize herself.

But she didn't. Not because she didn't want to, couldn't, or wouldn't. Because it would be awfully hard to explain. It's not every day that you have students torching pieces of glass from their dorm-room window. Especially after they assured you that they didn't need to go to St. Mungo's for therapy, and they wouldn't be a threat to other students.

The prospect of being surrounded by 6 padded walls and no windows didn't particularly appeal to her at the moment...maybe the next day the odds of her wanting that would be better.

She nearly jumped when she heard the door to the sixth year girls' dorm open. She didn't, though. The skill of keeping from showing any visible signs of fear or even surprise was one thing she had down to a science. Her eyes didn't even flicker away from the glass pane as she heard two girls who had been chatting separate as one entered the dorms and one did not. She heard footsteps cross the room, and followed exactly where the girl went as she sat down with a squeak of her mattress, but her eyes never left the window.

She forced her eyes to look beyond the glass, rather than just at it. She could barely make out the stars in the sky. Barely, but she could. Then she felt that tightness in her chest again. She wasn't even sure what it was about. The fact that she felt as though she would never feel happiness only made it worse. She had felt it once...but that was because of something. Of someone. But she knew that it would be impossible to feel that way again. It was impossible because that person was gone. And it was partially because of her. Maybe more than partially...

"Hello Carrie," she heard Hermione's voice say. Carrie struggled to pull her gaze off of the sky. She had heard that when you look at the stars you were looking back in time, in a way. It took time for the stars' light to reach the eyes of people. A star that may have already ceased to exist could still be seen, because the absence of the light would take a certain length of time to reach the earth. She knew that though she wanted to look back in time so badly, it would change nothing. No matter what she did, she would never be able to live those times again. Her chance was already given, and she wasted it. There was no hope that she'd ever get another.

"Hey," she answered, trying for a cheerful voice. She forced a disturbingly convincing smile, considering how she felt beneath her mask of skin.

"Ginny and I were planning on taking a trip down to Professor McGonnagal's office for Dueling Club sign-up if you'd like to come," Hermione offered.

Carrie shook her head, trying to look appreciative. "No thanks, I already signed up," she answered glancing back through the window, then quickly averted her gaze to another direction. Looking there wasn't going to make her feel any better...she either needed fast angry music that she wouldn't be able to think through, or something to get adrenaline to course through her veins. That would be the only way to put a pause on the pain. Her preference would be the latter.

"You can always walk with us, if you want," she responded to her.

"That's okay," she said smiling one of her well practiced masks again, "I think I'm just going to end up sleeping."

Hermione smiled back, seeming to be sincere. "Okay. Maybe some other time," she said as she turned out the door, not before catching the nod from Carrie, and into the common rooms. Carrie stepped out the door a few moments after she heard their chatting die out, and the common room door shut behind them. Grabbing her neglected broom out from under her four poster, she walked to the dorm room door, and stepped through it. She then made her way through the common room, her feet silent against the carpeted floor. As she walked past the fire she felt the heat and shivered. An odd response, but the heat reminded her of the chill she had been feeling. The second she passed the fire, it came back. Though now she couldn't ignore it; she had already been reminded. She shrugged off the feeling then and forced it out of her mind as she stepped through the portrait hole.

Carrie felt the cool September air whip through her hair as she skimmed the surface of the lake. The water came up on the sides of her, chilling her skin as it (along with the help of the light rain) gradually but effectively soaked through her clothing. She pulled up on the handle of her broom and flew up towards the sky. The rain drops were cold and icy as they hit her face at a painful speed, but she didn't mind it. For once she was able to just _not think. _

Sure, classes kept most painful thoughts out of her mind, but they were a different hell in themselves. Nothing had changed _at all_. Everything was the same as it had been two years ago. How could nothing change here, when everything in her own world would never be the same? Carrie had supposed she was the only one that could be blamed for that. But the thought didn't take the pain away. It would never, and to the contrary, it only added to it. She had made her choice. Everyone had choices, and she made her own. What the fuck was wrong with her? The only answer could be survival.

She forced her broom down again to dive towards the water, wondering for a moment what would happen if she didn't pull up. At this speed, she'd be down in the lake too far before she could stop and swim up. She'd drown, and her body would either wash up on shore, or she would sink to the bottom and eventually be forgotten. She pulled up at the last second, and if there had been any onlookers they would have been sure that she would have dived into the watery depths of the lake, only to be proved wrong at the last fraction of a second.

She had done what she had done for survival, and she was going to live with it. It wouldn't be for nothing, and she wasn't about to cheat the suffering now. Her head began to feel light as she climbed higher and higher into the air. It was probably due to the fact that she was no longer used to this, but it didn't stop her. She broke through the clouds, her clothes becoming even more soaking wet as they clung to her skin. At that moment she felt the chill, but didn't shiver. It was the most wonderful feeling she had had in a very long time. She rapidly dropped height, her lightheadedness alarming her. She accelerated her speed, hoping to dry off her clothes before she re-entered the castle. This was for one of two reasons, one was that Filch would have her head, the other was that she didn't want any questions.

Hermione and Ginny watched Carrie fly over the grounds from the edge of the castle, and exchanged sly looks. Well, more on Ginny's part than Hermione's.

They entered the castle, ready to walk to the common room, but stopped when they saw Harry in the Great Hall playing chess with Ron.

"Hey 'Mione, Ginny," Ron greeted, not even bothering to keep his head up from the fleeting glance.

With that, Harry turned around to look up, as he had been facing the opposite direction. "Hello," was all he said before he turned back to the game.

"Harry," Ginny began, walking to his other side, "I think we may have found someone to fill that open Quidditch position."

"What?" he said, them having finally caught his attention, "When? Where? _How?"_

Ginny raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I believe the question you're looking for is, 'who?'."

"Who, then," he responded impatiently.

"Carrie," Hermione stated matter of factly.

Harry looked lost. "Carrie _who?_" he asked. He had never even _met_ a Carrie.

"Er...I'm not sure," Hermione said, feeling a little embarrassed that she didn't even know the girl's last name. "It's the girl I was talking to at the feast the other night."

Ron looked up from the game. "You were talking to a girl the other night?!" he asked incredulously. He thought she had just sat back and stopped talking to them the entire night. He had no idea she had been talking to someone else.

"_Yes_," Hermione began coldly, "As a matter of fact, I was."

Harry knit his eyebrows together. "I think I might remember her...," he said, "Dark hair, dark eyes?" he asked.

"Yes," Hermione said, throwing Ron another glare.

"She flies?"

"Apparently," Ginny said, getting a little impatient. That was by far the most idiotic question she had yet heard that day. Of course she flew, otherwise they wouldn't be over here. "Well, too. By the looks of it."

?  
How am I doing? Comment.


	3. Chapter 3: Familiar Face

A/N: ...Okay. So the last chapter didn't really have too much substance...or, should I say plot? Eh, it was still important.

Disclaimer: Any recognizable inventions are JKR's, not mine.

* * *

"_Apparently," Ginny said, getting a little impatient. That was by far the most idiotic question she had yet heard that day. Of course she flew, otherwise they wouldn't be over here. "Well, too. By the looks of it."_

* * *

_And when did your eyes begin to look fake?_

_-_Dashboard Confessional, "Screaming Infedelities"

* * *

Carrie landed her broom on a secluded area between the Forbidden Forest and the lake. She watched the giant squid skim the surface, then go back under and slip into the dark depths. She began trudging towards the castle. _Why did I come back?_ she thought darkly to herself. More than anything she wanted to punch something. _By far one of my stupider ideas. And I've had **plenty** of those. Oh look, first years. I wonder what they would do if they heard something coming from the Forbidden Forest...something that looked **remarkably** like a vampire. No. No. I can't do that. Damn me and my 'promises'. Although, I never really paid them much mind before- why now? Oooh, here's a reason: if I don't I'll end up locked up somewhere. That **wouldn't **be fun. Not even tormenting first years is worth that... Then again, they should know better than to be out of their dorms this late, much less out of the school... Oh well... Would've been a riot, too..._

She finally made it to the castle, and slipped in through a side entrance that wasn't used all that often. It was known mostly by Slytherins who were smuggling items into the castle that had been banned by Filch, or who were aware of its existence for more serious measures. Though she wasn't a Slytherin, and wasn't using it for either, it was convenient all the same. It opened quietly, as it had been charmed to do so that way the user wouldn't be given away. The second she was inside an arm went out to grab her. She hid the sudden shock she felt the second she caught sight of the face.

"Evlyn," she breathed, the intentional anger draining from her voice as she looked at the familiar girl. "What the _hell_ were you trying to do? Kill me? You could have given me a bloody heart attack...," she said, looking at her with mock disdain.

"Carrie!" she exclaimed, but still minding to keep her voice at a whisper so they wouldn't give away the entrance. "I thought you were dead. My god. If I wasn't so opposed to physical contact I'd _hug you_." However humorous that sounded, Carrie knew it wasn't to be taken lightly. Evlyn being on the verge of hugging her as she saw Carrie alive had meant she was really very worried. "I see that other lifestyle just wasn't for you, huh?" she said sadly. "Apparently you're in some deep shit if you're ready to come back here. But, please. _Gryffindor?! _Have you NO taste?" she asked, her voice becoming dangerous.

"Didn't really choose. Dumbledore didn't think it wise for me to associate with my old friends. "Temptation" or something to that effect. Thought it might make me less trustworthy," Carrie replied, averting Evlyn's gaze.

Her eyes became bright with amusement. "You mean Dumbly doesn't trust me?! Whatever gave him the idea that _I _would be untrustworthy?" she said good-naturedly, but her eyes darkened considerably. "Maybe he should watch out for the Gryffindors. We all know they can be just as deceptive. Please, just promise me you won't play for their Quidditch team. Our team sucks, and we can't afford to go up against you. That Potter boy is bad enough." Her voice had that dangerous edge again, but Carrie just laughed, knowing her friend better than that.

"I don't play Quidditch anymore," she stated blandly.

"Right," Evlyn began, her gray eyes playful again, "Exactly why your hair is all tangled and your clothing damp and completely trashed. If I didn't know you better, I suppose I could assume that was for- _ahem-_ another reason, but the last clue is that your Firebolt is in your right hand. And I highly doubt that whatever torture you are trying to put yourself through, you would _never_ use it for sweeping. Much less in the mud."

Carrie looked down at her clothing and cringed. She pulled out her wand. "_Scourigify,"_ she muttered, pointing it at herself. After they were clean, she dried them off. She looked back up at Evlyn. "And what, may I ask, makes you think I'm torturing myself?" she asked, her fine eyebrows arched over her dark and distant eyes.

Evlyn smirked. "You don't play Quidditch anymore...," she said, then her voice became softer, "And I know you better than that. You're not going to let go of what happened. It _wasn't_ your fault," she said, her words passive, but at the same time forceful.

"It wasn't out of my control, either," she remarked. "I'm over it. He's dead. Dead. As in gone and never coming back. Look, I can even say it now," she said, but despite her words her voice cracked. Tears threatened her eyes like hot needles, but she'd never let them spill. Never in her life.

Evlyn nodded, though she was almost positive that this wouldn't be the only reason that Carrie would want to torment herself. "Come on," she began, "we better get out of here before someone catches us and discovers the entrance. Forget about detention. The rest of the Slytherins will kill us, then find some dark spell to bring us back to life, just so they can have the satisfaction of killing us again."

Carrie nodded, finding it easier to force a smile when she was around someone that she could stand and could actually make her laugh. "We really need to catch up on things, don't we?"

Evlyn smirked as she said, "What about Dumbly?"

"I don't really give a shit about him. And I don't think it was you he was concerned about," she responded, though she supposed she should be showing some more respect. Considering he was the reason why she wasn't dead. Why her body wasn't lying in the dirt. In a grave, with a nameless stone atop it because no one cared enough. They smirked as they left the dark and abandoned (with the exception of the few that knew of it) corridor that led to Salazar Slytherin's secret entrance on the side of the castle.

Ginny and Hermione led Harry and Ron in the direction they had seen Carrie flying. With some luck, they could catch her in the hallway. They weren't planning on telling her to join the team. Not yet. They agreed not even to insinuate or imply it. If what Hermione had said was correct, and that she said she didn't fly anymore, then it would take some time and a lot of persuasion. Now was just to get Harry and Ron to meet her, as they hadn't yet.

Ginny spotted her first. "Er- is she talking to a _Slytherin?! _W_hy?_" she looked over at them disdainfully. "Well, we might as well go over. Make sure she's not being corrupted to kill all of us or anything."

Harry heard this and raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that Evlyn Fauve? She's a chaser on the Slytherin team, right?" he asked, looking at Ginny, and then Ron. Ron shrugged, not really caring. He never paid much mind to the opposing teams players. Much less their names. Then something seemed to fall into place for him. He did know of her. And she was a right pain in the ass, also. He had the misfortune of being her partner during potions and it had been nearly as torturous as when he had to do _all_ of Malfoy's work in that class after the blond boy had allegedly 'hurt' his arm.

Ginny nodded. "She's dating Zacharias Smith. Sort of ironic, seeing as she hates all Quidditch players out of her house."

"A Slytherin with a Hufflepuff? I thought they disliked them almost as much as Gryffindors," Harry remarked, back to watching the two, "And how do you know that she hates all Quidditch players?"

Ginny laughed dryly. "We had a bit of a run-in, you see. Turned into a duel that not even the ministry would be fond of, much less the school."

Ron's eyes darkened. "What'd you do to each other?" he asked incredulously. "Never mind that. What'd she do to _you_?!"

"She hit me with a slashing hex," she said, lifting up the hem of her shirt to show a long white scar that wrapped around her hip and onto her front. "But I hit her first, so you can't hold it against her. Much less tell anyone. I got pissed and stopped thinking."

Ron turned away, shaking his head and muttering something along the lines of, "Bloody Slytherins".

Hermione looked at her with distaste. "She always seemed like a prettier version of Pansy Parkinson to me," she caught Evlyn's gaze turns towards them. "Well, we might as well go over, now. No reason for them to think we were standing here staring at them, though we were."

They made their way over, which wasn't very far. They had only just been out of earshot before. Evlyn caught sight of them, and looked as though she was going to burst into hysterical laughter. First, Carrie was a Gryffindor, now _this_? Oh, it just couldn't get any better. "Ah. Weasel, Weasel, Pothead and Mudblood," she sneered, then smirked as she caught Carrie's glare. Probably the result of the 'mudblood' remark. "Just having a chat with your fellow Gryffie. I'll be going now," and with that she burst into some more laughter and began to walk away. This was _priceless._

Ron looked murderous, and Harry was glaring at her back. Evlyn glanced over her shoulder in a mock seductive look at the two that almost sent Carrie into a fit of laughter.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?" she asked, and though she was attempting to sound good-natured, her green eyes were menacing.

"Just talk," Carrie responded, answering vaguely. She had already caught the drift that Ginny and Evlyn didn't like each other much. Evlyn had already shown her her scar that started at her collar bone and went across her shoulder. Apparently she had been telling professors she had gotten it in a 'Quidditch' accident. What was the staff thinking? That she was playing Quidditch with swords and daggers?

"...Just talk. With a Slytherin...?" she asked, her eyebrow raised, but her eyes had calmed considerably.

"An old friend," she said, smirking. "So, what brings you by here?"

Ginny decided to just let the subject drop, but let Hermione respond. "Gin and I saw you, and you hadn't met Harry and Ron yet, so we decided to introduce you."

Carrie had known who they were from a distance. The Slytherins _did_ need to know who they were to torment them, so she had been informed of this. Though she had never really taken a part of it.

She glanced at the boy with the black hair and green eyes. Her eyes flicked over his forehead and to his scar, which solidified her suspicions of who he was, but she didn't allow her eyes to linger, but she knew he already noticed. _Get used to it,_ she thought,_ people are going to look._ Then she looked at Ron and nearly grinned. He had the same red hair and lanky build as the rest of his siblings.

She left her hands in her back pockets as they had been. "Carrie Everine. And I know who you are," she turned to Hermione. "Don't mind Evlyn. She doesn't hate muggle-borns. She really didn't mean anything by the 'mudblood' remark. In fact, I've never heard that come out of her mouth before."

"It's fine," Hermione snapped, though she tried not to. Her eyes flashed to Evlyn's back as she began to slowly fade away and into the swamp of students that were heading to their dorms from various directions. "I guess I should be used to it by now."

To say that Ron looked angry would be the understatement of the century. Actually, to say that he was royally pissed would probably fall under that as well. His face was turning a deep red color, and it was clashing horribly with his hair, to say the least. "I hate that bloody girl," he muttered darkly to himself. Carrie caught it and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I'll assume none of you really get along with her, now do you?" she observed, not really caring much for the conversation anymore, and hadn't the second it turned towards the promise of a verbal bash of Evlyn.

Ginny laughed dryly. "There's one way to put it," she answered, her green eyes seeming to ice over. Carrie suddenly thought it ironic on how similar Ginny seemed to Evlyn. Almost like her Gryffindor counterpart. She nearly laughed aloud at the thought. Evlyn would hang herself if she ever found out that she was anything like a Gryffindor. Much less a Weasely.

Hermione looked 'surprised' to see Carrie had a broom in her hand. "I thought you said you didn't fly anymore."

Carrie smirked over her shoulder as she brushed past her. "I was using it to sweep the mud off the walkway," she stated blandly, her eyes looking completely honest, but brightening with twisted amusement when she caught sight of Ron's face. She turned to him. "Relax. It was a joke," she then turned back to Hermione, "I said I didn't play Quidditch anymore. There's a bit of a difference."

* * *

_A/N: ah. I know. I meant to update like last week, but I kept jumping between my other fanfiction, this one, and my story when I was writing. I have **major** concentration issues. So, any thoughts? I'm trying to make Harry and Ron to seem a little less insensitive, as was pointed out to me by: _Altrn8vIvyLeagueGrrl _ but I have to gradually work into it. Can't make them seem like they've been slipped a bottle of estrogen or anything. _XD

_(I was joking, for those who take life a bit too seriously)_


	4. Chapter 4: Part I

_Face down in the dirt,_

_she says, "This doesn't hurt."_

"_**Face Down" The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus**_

_All at once the words were out of her mouth before she even knew what she was saying. "**CRUCIO!**" _

_But she knew what she was saying._

_She knew what she was doing._

_Her wand was pointed at him. It was sick how she didn't feel anything. Or maybe she just couldn't bring herself to feel anything..._

_It was one of those surreal moments. She couldn't hear his screams, but she knew he was doing it. She knew he was shrieking in pain- she could **see **it. Suddenly, she took off the spell as if on command. Which it was, when it all came down to it. She tried to reassure herself. If he were in her position, he'd do the same to her. The thought killed her, though. Would he? Would he really? Suddenly she wasn't so sure..._

_His words, "**Do whatever you have to,**" rang in her ears. The forceful tone and cool gray eyes. Just in that moment he looked up at her with that mocking defiance from where he had collapsed on the ground. He stood, up, brushing off his robes. He was wandless, but still he showed no trace of fear. How could she do this? More questionably, why didn't he do anything back? He was by far more powerful than her. For now, at least. True. He **didn't **have a wand. He could still attempt some form of wandless magic, though. Her heart nearly stopped. She had told herself she wouldn't. What was she turning into? She heard the sickly high-pitched hissing voice, and wanted all at that moment to destroy it. Turn her wand at **that** throat. "Finish it." Was this his punishment, or hers?_

_She couldn't, but knew very well she could. She wouldn't, didn't want to._

Carrie's eyes snapped open, not recognizing her surroundings at first. It took her a few moments to realize she was in the Gryffindor Dorm room. She had the sudden irrational expectation that she was going to open up her eyes to the Slytherin Dungeons. God this place was bad for her. She shouldn't be here, but being out _there_ would be possibly worse. She got up quietly and moved in a phantom-like way out the door. No sound came as her feet hit the ground.

_I have to meet with Dumbledore tomorrow_, she thought to herself, her subconscious giving her reminders to bribe her thoughts away from **that**. She found her way to a back staircase that was very often used, and halted very briefly at the top before making her way down. She rested her thin-fingered hand on the banister and noticed in a rather detached way that it was shaking uncontrollably. She looked down at herself and realized _she _was shaking as well. Not just her hand.

Disconcerting as it was- or would have been- she found she didn't quite care much. The most she gave to herself was mild interest. She would have continued to travel down the stairs, but her legs threatened to collapse beneath her. She sat down on one of the steps to save herself the embarrassment. She rested her crossed arms over her knees as she stared out the dank window opposite the staircase.

She suddenly realized, after traveling this unused route many times, something she never had before. She could make out the stained glass figures in the decrepit thing underneath the many layers of dust. It pictured a badger, a snake, a lion, and a raven, but not in the usual Hogwarts coat of arms. It wasn't just that, though. Something else was different that she couldn't place her finger on at first. They all looked so serene. Not angry or competitive towards each-other, but perfectly content with one another. Carrie laughed derisively. How ironic.

She nearly jumped when she saw a shadow below her, but quickly calmed herself. The movement she heard wasn't like how the teachers moved, and it seemed almost sneaky. So apparently they didn't want to get caught any more than she did. Which meant neither had anything over the other, so she stayed put. When she saw the light catch blond hair and glint up to her, it gave her incentive to move, but it would be much too late. She stayed where she was instead, but didn't bother to turn her gaze.

She heard the footsteps falter and pause, then the predictable drawling voice. She nearly rolled her eyes at it.

"Oh look, it's little Carrie...come back to school, have we?" he began, his gray eyes bright with a sort of mocking amusement.

Carrie pulled out her wand in a swift but lazy movement. Her dark eyes flashed. "Sure. Something like that," she answered, standing up so she was at eye level with him.

He watched her movement and smirked darkly. "You don't _actually_ think that I'd be afraid of a little Gryffindor, do you?"

"You'd be afraid of a lot of things," she said, her voice doused in venom, and her smile fake. "Don't think that I don't know you better."

Draco's face became serious and his eyes menacing. He moved closer, but not so they were touching. Just enough so she'd back away from him and into the banister. "And the same for you. But _while_ you're here, don't do anything that might give anyone reason to, let's say, cut your stay here short?"

"Charmed," Carrie responded, going to slip out from between Malfoy and the staircase railing. His hand reached out and stopped her. Once again he was careful not to touch her, he merely brought out his hand and placed it in front of her.

"We both know what you're capable of. I haven't seen much of you since you came back, but this 'I actually have morals and wouldn't kill anyone in cold blood' act that I've seen so far is beginning to grind on my nerves. To each is their own, I suppose. So if you get a kick out of it, keep it up. It might be worth a laugh when the Gryffindors finally figure you out...if they're even that smart, though they should eventually," His eyes met hers, and she wouldn't look away. She was much too- not proud, but stubborn, maybe. He was right. No word he said was a lie. However much she wished it was...

She took a deep breath, preparing for a comeback, but changed her mind. "...bite me, Malfoy," she responded. It was a rather weak response, but it was good to say to make the conversation end that much quicker.

Draco laughed derisively. "I'd rather pass on that." He moved his hand out of the way and opened his arm to let her pass.

Carrie shoved past him, waving sarcastically at him. "Don't forget you know what I'm capable of," she said added with a smirk, ensuring herself to have the last word. No way would she let him get it in.

Carrie made her way into the Gryffindor Common Room, trying to ignore the burning in her arm. She gathered her class supplies and her bag and went to breakfast, taking her sweet time as she walked down the still-empty corridor. No other student was up at this hour, and she wouldn't have been surprised if she ran into a house-elf.

She stumbled over herself as she had quickened her pace, she heard a snicker coming from her right. She turned and sighed, "Yeah, Evlyn. My lack of coordination is really damn funny, isn't it?" Her voice was lightly sarcastic, but at the same time, also amused at herself.

"Well, it made _my _day," she answered smugly, falling into step beside Carrie.

"And you're up at this hour stalking in the shadows, because...?" Carrie asked, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest, with a mock look of suspicion.

Evlyn shrugged. "Couldn't sleep...thinking about messing with some first years, but there weren't any," she sighed in a bored way that told Carrie she really was disappointed that she hadn't had any chance to mess with the younger students. ...Same old Evlyn. "So, what about you?"

"Same...couldn't sleep...," she responded, not looking at her and quickening her pace.

"Couldn't, or didn't want to?" Evlyn asked, eyeing her suspiciously, and quickening her pace to keep up. "What's all the rush about?"

"Nothing," she said, slowing down again, "I-uh- I just don't know..."

"I've known you your entire life," she said softly, "And never once have a heard you at a loss for words...There is something very very wrong." Evlyn stood still, grabbing hold of Carrie's shoulder and looking her firmly in the eye. "Is there anyone you want me to kill for you?" she said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. But there was something else there, a sinister edge to her eye and voice.

"Voldemort," she responded softly and acidly, "can you kill _him _ for me?"

"I can't answer that question," Evlyn said, "Because to do so would be to ask for death...especially as a Slytherin."

"You're right. I'm as good as dead anyway, though."

"Don't say that," Evlyn said harshly, "Don't _ever_ say that. Much less to me. God. Do you know how fucking insane I've been going stuck with all these other students? Most ignorant people, ever. They don't care about anything except for themselves," she cut herself short as she realized what she was doing. How she was about to go off on a rant about a touchy subject with the only person that she had ever called a friend. There were differences between herself and Carrie, she knew. Carrie could kill without a second thought, or she could at one time. Or was that even true? Maybe she did have second thoughts. Maybe every time she held her wand and said that lethal incantation, maybe she was killing a part of herself. Herself...she didn't know where to start. She'd mask some parts, the more sentimental parts. The part that wrote poetry and hated herself, and was disappointed with the world. The part that cried at night, not out of self pity but out of frustration with everything and everyone- the Death Eaters especially. Though even her friend had been a part of that at one point. With other things, she didn't mind saying what was what or telling people what she believed in. They were different in a sense...her mask was her guard, and the other piece of herself didn't need a guard. It was strong, not weak.

"I'm sorry," Carrie responded, dark eyes meeting gray ones. Gray eyes that reflected like a soft metal; aluminum rather than steel.

"Damn. That's the first time I ever heard you say sorry. You're all full of surprises today, aren't you?" Then they both laughed. It was irrational but at the same time the most rational thing that could be done. Half hysterical laughter that they had actually seen each other again. More surprising that they had actually seen each other again _alive_.

Ginny's eyes snapped open and she sat up. She was the first one awake in the 5th year Girls' Dorms by far, but it wasn't really early, either. Her skin was damp from sweat, and her fiery red hair was clinging to her forehead and the back of her neck in an uncomfortable way. She grabbed a hair-tie off of the dresser and brushed her hair into a messy pony tail. She walked down to the common rooms to find a disgruntled Harry and Ron and a decently perky Hermione.

She raised an eyebrow, noticing that they all seemed to be wearing the same clothes from the other day.

"We basically had to pull an all-nighter," Hermione said, her voice on-edge like that of a person who had drunk one too many caffeinated beverages. "They had been goofing off and putting off their homework, as usual, and I just remembered about this long essay Professor Binns assigned."

"We just got back to school, how does Binns get off on assigning essays _this _early?" Ginny asked incredulously, and then seemed to notice Hermione for the first time. "Did you all _sleep_ down here?!"

"Oh god, no," Hermione said, "We've all had a few hours of sleep in our dorms, but I made them wake up early so I could proofread their work." Ginny nodded, trying to follow Hermione's very un-Hermione-like hyper tense voice.

"So," she continued, eyes still wide, voice still quick and perky, "Want to come down to Breakfast with us?"

"I have to go take a shower," Ginny responded slowly, motioning towards the door, "But I'll catch up with you later..." She smiled, _after you're not acting like you've had one to many pepper-up potions_.

After she had left the dorms, Ginny made her way through the almost deserted corridors. She seemed to glide effortlessly through the hall, in a way that Pansy failed to ever accomplish. She never thought about the way she walked, or the way she looked. She was just able _to_. Not that it would have mattered if it all was gone the next day. She had dated around in Gryffindor, but the guys always had seemed to be a disappointment, so she just stopped. She didn't really care much for that anymore. She didn't need anyone. None with the exception of her family, and she would kill for them. Kill to protect them, and destroy anyone who tried to harm them.

She was nearly at the bathroom door, prepared to breathe out a sigh of relief that no one had bothered her. No one had talked 'just to chat' or even greet her. That the corridors were seemingly empty.

"Hello Weasley," Ginny cringed before even recognizing the drawl, and once she did, she cringed more. She turned around.

"Hello Malfoy. I'd _love_ to stay and chat, but, as you can see, I need to take a shower," as soon as the words were out of her mouth she cringed again. _Nice going_, she thought derisively.

He raised his eyebrows, his arms crossed over his chest in an arrogant manner. Ginny hated herself for having to admit that the stance was highly attractive. ...She still hated him. "Oh? Sorry to have interrupted you, then," he said, smirking, but moving a little bit closer. She hated that she did that to her. She wanted to back up to get away from him, but didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that he made her do it. She didn't want to stay standing here, either, so she was left looking completely lost and irritated.

She ended up making a aggravated noise and turned on her heel, grabbing the bathroom door handle and swinging it violently open. She stopped in her tracks, wanting to throw some sort of comeback at him, but he hadn't said anything to comeback to. He rested his hand on her shoulder as he walked past, and leaned in towards her ear. "Can't wait to see you in class," he said, and she pulled her shoulder violently out from under his hand. As he walked off, he turned his head one last time over his shoulder and smirked. She lifted her hand with one choice finger out, which made him laugh darkly as he walked.

_Damn Malfoy_, she thought sinisterly. More than anything she wanted to hex him...

* * *

A/N: _So...what'd you think? I need reviews...or something...more readers might be nice. haha.._

_Yeah...I don't have much to say about my last chapter...except that I need to learn how to update regularly. :/_


	5. Chapter 4: Part II

_A/N: I'm currently watching Desperate Housewives while writing...so this chapter may be bad on your psyche. (There's a dead husband in the freezer!) (Update: started this a while ago, why that episode was so long ago... . )_

* * *

Ginny turned on the water which came out steaming. She felt the hot water run down her back and she glared at the bathroom tile. Fucking idiot, he was. After a while, though, the sound of the running water and the thick steam began to calm her, and she stepped quietly out of the shower. She dressed quickly, dried her hair using a charm so it would be done quickly, and went back to the common room to retrieve her school supplies. 

As she walked towards the Gryffindor Table she noticed Hermione already sitting between Carrie and Ron and across from Harry. Walking towards the opposite side of Hermione, she sat next to Harry and across from Carrie. "So, Carrie, Quidditch tryouts are today. Are you going?"

Carrie shook her head apathetically, her voice lazy and bored, but Ginny noticed the slight emotion that showed in her eyes no matter how hard she tried to pass off as indifferent. She noticed that it was always there... "Don't play Quidditch, remember?"

Carrie heard Evlyn's ringing voice from behind her at the Slytherin table. "She better as hell not." Carrie spun around at her, matching Evlyn's gaze with her own. Did she really want to play at that? Fine.

"On second thought, what time?" she asked, her eyes still flashing dangerously.

"After morning classes," Ginny responded, her eyes wandering over to where Evlyn was standing. The pale, dark haired Slytherin had her arms lazily crossed over her chest. A dark green belt with little black skulls was wrapped around her thin waist underneath her school robes. Her face held an oddly satisfied little smile, and she raised her eyebrows menacingly when she caught Ginny's gaze. Ginny held out her middle finger, and looked back at Carrie, hearing Evlyn break into a fit of rather immature laughter. "Really," she continued, ignoring the Slytherin, "You should come."

Carrie nodded, glancing back at the Slytherin table, then turning back to face Ginny. "Sure. I'll be there, I guess." She glanced down at a watch that was on her wrist, just visible under her long sleeve black shirt. "Um, I have to go meet with Dumbledore to discuss my schedule for the rest of the year. There was a bit of the mix up. I'll see you in classes, and if not, at try-outs," she smiled one of her convincing but superficial and fake smiles. It nearly hid how melancholy her eyes were, but not quite, "bye," she said as waved, backing up a few steps before turning on her heel and walking in the opposite direction.

Ginny watched her go, knowing that not everything was quite alright with her, though she'd only known her for a few days. She also knew that nothing had been alright for quite sometime before she met her, and also knew, or speculated rather, that asking her what was wrong wouldn't do anything because Carrie wasn't the type of person who would tell, much less to someone she hardly knew. Ginny felt selfish and cruel for it, but a part of her, however small, was glad for it. She was confused enough with her own life, and didn't understand her emotions anymore, not that she ever did.

Carrie stopped outside the entrance to the staircase that led to Dumbledore's office, muttering yet another candy-themed password, rolling her eyes at the Head's predictability, even if she _had _been informed of it. It wasn't as though she wouldn't have been able to guess; that no one else would have been able to. Then she reminded herself it was only an extra precaution, Dumbledore didn't need any protection. Not that she thought, anyway. Wasn't he the only one the Dark Lord feared? His only solid and breathing insecurity? Carrie remembered, scoffing at herself, how she had thought that had only been a myth. Voldemort was younger, re-gaining power, and far more powerful than Dumbledore could ever hope to be. How could he fear anything? Anything holding that much power had no fears. Oh, how naïve she had been.

Then she remembered wistfully at the times when none of that mattered to her. Before it all started. When it was just her and Evlyn, laughing and joking, not caring about their future because they were living the present. Both their families forcing such high and dark expectations unto them that their only dream was to rebel and piss them off. Her finely shaped mouth hardening into a tight line that could have rivaled McGonagall's as she continued up the winding staircase that led to Dumbledore's office. She stood outside the door, waiting for the meeting to end. She heard hushed voices, Dumbledore's and Snape's, maybe Aurelia's, too. She had only seen Aurelia DeCarte from a distance when she had been introduced during the opening feast as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but she knew her voice well enough.

All at once, she heard Dumbledore's voice become louder, "I think we shall cut this short. I have a visitor," and the door flew open, revealing the teachers to Carrie and herself to the teachers. Every one of them was looking at her, and not one of them looked surprised; more like they had been expecting her. Snape left the room without a backward glance, while Aurelia nodded her head at Carrie while she did the same. It was a supposed courteous gesture, her thin line of a mouth and distrusting eyes telling Carrie otherwise. She knew the teacher didn't like her. Actually to say she didn't like her would be the understatement of the century.

It wasn't quite hate, either. It was more of a paranoia, suspecting the worst from her. Slightly beyond suspecting, as far as DeCarte was concerned, she _was _going to relapse into her old ways. Seasons and weather change, but people generally don't. Carrie knew she wasn't much different. She was just smarter.

Dumbledore motioned her forward. "You can come in," he said, his eyes void of their usual sparkle. His voice was all business, and his expression didn't show any different.

"I hear you've decided to tryout for the Gryffindor Quidditch team," the professor observed, his voice thoughtful, and she knew he was still weighing out the sides and what his opinion on the matter was.

Carrie's eyebrows instantly raised in an out of character look of surprise. How in hell could he possibly know that already? She nearly asked it, too, but bit her tongue. It would be too off topic, opening up another conversation when she already wanted this one to end.

"Yes," she began, her voice no less detached than when she spoke to anyone else, "Is that a problem?" she asked, a part of her hoping it was. That it was much too dangerous, that he couldn't risk the other students, that he didn't trust her, anything.

Instead he stroked the top of his beard, "Hm," he replied, "Well I wish you luck in tryouts."

That was it.  
She was throwing the whole thing.

She'd go, as she promised, she just wouldn't try. It's not like it would actually be fun, anyway.

Carrie dragged her mind out of the future and back to the present. She nearly asked why Dumbledore requested to be here, but she already knew. And he knew she knew. She just wanted to get back on topic, discuss what they had to discuss, and then leave.

Dumbledore motioned for her to sit. "I hear you've befriended a few students. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione?"

Carrie sat and looked directly at him. "Not exactly. I've never really spoken to either Harry or Ron, but they don't exactly stray far from Ginny and Hermione. I've spent most of my time with Evlyn, though," she replied, using all her power to prevent herself from sneering it. Evlyn may not be a saint, but she wasn't a bad person.

Dumbledore nodded, "That would be rather predictable," he said, his tone a little less distant, his eyes sparkling again, "I heard she gave Ronald Weasley quite the bit of trouble in Potions before."

Carrie nodded, "I know this isn't what you called me down here for, though, is it?"

Dumbledore sighed in a rather tired way, clasped his hands together and peered at her over the top of his half moon spectacles. "I decided it wise to check in on you from time to time, given the circumstances," he said. "But I have nothing more to discuss with you unless there's something you need to tell me," he raised his eyebrows, and when she didn't say anything he continued, "If there isn't, then you're welcome to leave and get back to your classes now."

Carrie nodded, and left his office without another word.

* * *

Classes passed in a boring haze, where she couldn't quite bring herself to think. What was the use, anyhow? She knew most of the material, and it wasn't as if she would need to _actually_ pay attention to it to be able to pass the class. So she settled for alternating between sleeping through Binns' class and zoning out through Transfiguration. By the time lunch rolled around, she gladly retreated to the Great Hall, content to listening to Ginny and Hermione chattering away. 

Five minutes until lunch ended, the students began clearing out. Ginny's face drained of color when she pulled herself out of her conversation. She grabbed Carrie's arm, painfully dragging her out of her reverie and down the Hall. "Damn, Gin. You're making my arm bleed," Carrie said, wincing.

"You say that like I mean to. We're going to be late for try-outs."

"Well, maybe your nails shouldn't be so much like claws. I think I'm going to scar from this," Carrie said, a hint of a whine in her voice.

"Maybe you should move quicker. Quidditch. Tryouts. Do those words mean _anything_ to you?" Ginny responded, sounding far too obsessed with the sport for it to be healthy.

"Inflicting severe pain upon me. Do those words mean anything to _you_?" Carrie sneered lightly, trying to get her arm out of her grasp, but that just increased the pain, so she took Ginny's advice and sped up into a slow jog to keep up with Ginny's pace.

"I'll inflict some more pain if we don't get a move on."

Carrie sighed. It was rather unnerving how much she reminded her of Evlyn.

The Quidditch pitch was stone quiet when they ran onto the field. The instant they saw the reason, they dropped their jog and stood, then slowly continued. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy stood in the middle of the pitch, looking as though they were attempting to stare each other down.

"I'll say it again, Potter," Draco said, his captain's robes blowing slightly in the breeze, the green and silver the only difference between his own and Harry's, "I have a signed note, right here, from Professor Snape. We were scheduled for the pitch for today."

"Save it, Malfoy. I have one from McGonagall. We reserved it _weeks_ before you did," Harry replied through his teeth, lacking the same casual and indifferent air that Malfoy's voice had.

"Lucky for me, Snape doesn't see it that way. Get your ass off the field." Draco pulled out his wand, "Unless, of course, you'd rather fight for it."

Harry did the same and Carrie noticed Evlyn on the far side of the pitch looking pleased and lazily excited, her small mouth twisted into a smirk. "You might want to back your smug ass down, Malfoy. If you know what's good for you."

Malfoy smiled, raising his wand at the same time as Harry. Hermione had walked out to watch the try-outs, but the second they were within eyesight from her, she broke into a run. Her wand was out, pointing at both of them. "Stop this, now. Before I get a professor."

"'Before I get a professor'," Evlyn mimicked, moving closer to the ordeal, throwing a smirk over at Granger.

Ron's eyes narrowed, standing stiffly behind Harry. "Get out of the way, 'Mione."

"Listen to the weasel," Malfoy drawled shooting a look of disdain down at Hermione, "he just may be onto something."

"Stop this," Carrie spoke up for the first time, "What's the big deal? We can each just use separate halves."

"Shut up, Everine," Malfoy snapped.

Carrie pulled out her own wand, and pointed it at Malfoy, along with Harry's. "Have it your way, then."

For the first time, Malfoy's eyes showed a glint of uneasiness. Just a flash, but it had been there. It may have been because he knew she wasn't lying. He also knew that she wasn't like Harry. That she could hurt someone else, and didn't lie to herself about it.

"Alright, fine," he sneered.

The circle of students now consisted of Ron, Ginny, Harry, Evlyn, Draco, Hermione, and herself. The rest of the Quidditch players stood back, but they were all watching intently.

"Stop," Hermione said quietly, but desperately. She wasn't looking at them. Her eyes were up on the sky.

"They're not going to stop," Evlyn singsonged, but was instantly spoken over by the other girl.

"No. Look up. Now," Hermione said, louder this time. Her voice beyond fear, and in no way could the sound of a voice like that ever be put into words.

They all looked up. Carrie's eyes widened. The clouds were like pure darkness, like a swirling shadow descending upon them. It became lower and lower until Carrie knew that if she reached up she could touch it. It smelled like a musty cavern. If she closed her eyes she knew she could imagine she was in one, the wetness of the cloud touching the air lightly caressing her skin. It's descent instantly quickened, like fast-forwarding through a movie. It consumed the seven students completely, and Carrie felt herself being pulled up like this cloud, this dark fog, was a vacuum of a sort.

For a moment, a timeless moment, everything was gone. She was there, and she was conscious, but she couldn't feel anything. Or, rather, there was nothing _to_ feel. She felt her body fall on something solid, which she assumed was ground. She felt a sharp pain run through her side as the world slowly came back into focus.

* * *

A/N: **So sorry that took so long. But I've been trying to not fail all my classes. Long and boring story, so I won't get into it. And then I started reading City of Bones, which didn't help. It's written by Cassandra Clare- sound familiar? Cassandra Claire wrote the Draco Trilogy, though the names aren't _completely_ the same, I have a suspicion. It definitely is similar to her writing style. Oh, and the main character has red hair, and there is an egotistical and arrogant blond main character named Jace. He doesn't lie. (Sound familiar again?) And Clary is jealous of his skill of being able to arch only one eyebrow. (How about now?)**

**Yeah, so I'm going to go back to obsessing over this book. You should definitely join me. It's completely and utterly amazing. Even if it's not the same skilled author (which I highly doubt) it's still great.**

** Review, please? It'd make my day.**


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